


The Tenth Year

by Amuly



Series: Gwil's Guide to Growing Up Torchwood [11]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-09
Updated: 2011-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-04 02:04:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/388455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amuly/pseuds/Amuly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ianto and Jack observe some odd Thursday-night ritual Gwil begins to have; the dads conspire together to make sure Gwil has a social life outside of Torchwood.</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ianto and Jack observe some odd Thursday-night ritual Gwil begins to have; the dads conspire together to make sure Gwil has a social life outside of Torchwood.

Ianto's eyes followed Gwil as he walked cautiously up to the Rift predictor they had installed discretely in the kitchen, fingers crossed down against his thighs. This would be the third Thursday in a row Gwil had performed the same ritual – and the first that Ianto had purposefully positioned himself at the kitchen table to watch the scene unfold. A Gwil tapped through the predictions for the weekend, his face fell, and he started to turn away with a sigh.

“Gwil?”

At the sound of his tad's voice Gwil started, seeming to just now notice his presence at the kitchen table. “Huh?”

Ianto nodded at the chair across from him, and Gwil reluctantly took a seat. “What are you looking for?”

Gwil shrugged one boney shoulder. His weight hadn't caught up to his height yet, and right now he was more sharp corners and wiry muscle than he was bulky strength. Ianto had been much the same at his age: a kind of hungry energy with blue eyes too big for his face, just yet. He'd grow into it, given just a few more years. "Doesn't matter," Gwil sighed. His expression was resigned: not disgruntled, though, as it might have been just a couple years ago.

“Do you have plans?” Ianto ventured. As if it wasn't obvious.

Gwil's eyes flicked up to meet Ianto's, gaze cautious. “No. Unless you count with whatever the Rift's throwing at us.”

“You could have plans, you know,” Ianto suggested, “non-Rift plans. You're not a full agent; this isn't your _job_.”

Gwil hesitated, indecision clear. “But...”

Jack stepped into the kitchen then, clearly on the prowl for some pre-dinner snack. He paused when he saw Gwil and Ianto seated at the table, clearly in the midst of a discussion. His eyes sought out Ianto's, and Ianto nodded, almost imperceptibly.

With a forced-casual grin, Jack continued into the kitchen, opening and shutting cupboards as he scoured around for something to dampen his appetite. “What's up, champ? Got any big plans for the weekend?”

Ianto winced, but smoothed his expression out quickly enough. Subtly, Jack was not known for.

Sure enough, Gwil's eyes narrowed, and he peered between his tad and dad before his eyes settled on Jack's deliberately turned back. “No. Rift's acting up.”

Having finally secured an apple in his grasp, Jack slid into the chair between Gwil and Ianto as he munched on it, the crack of the apple's mastication loud in the tense silence of the kitchen. “Sho?” Jack asked around a mouthful of apple. He swallowed – or at least tucked the apple piece into his cheek – before continuing. “That means your tad's and my plans are shot. Doesn't have anything to do with you.”

“But-”

“Nope.” Jack waved the hand clutching the apple between three fingers decisively. “No buts. You're off active duty for the weekend.”

Ianto shifted, examining his cuticles with a sort of casual disapproval. “Wasn't even aware Gwil was _on_ active duty in the first place,” he pointed out.

Jack nodded even as Gwil threw has hands down on the table, palms up in protest. “Point there, son. You're _not_ active duty. Which means you're never on call for days you're not scheduled to work. Now, let me just check my agenda...” he turned to Ianto, who did his best to stifle a laugh. As it was, a smirk still tugged at his lips. “Agenda?”

“Yes, sir?”

Gwil groaned, head flopping down to the tabletop. Ianto and Jack both ignored him. “Can you please pull up the days junior agent Gwil is scheduled to work?”

“It would be my pleasure, sir.” Ianto ignored Gwil banging his head repeatedly on the table.

Jack's grin only widened at Ianto's reply, and Gwil's histrionically discomforted antics. “Oh, no, Agenda,” he purred, hand reaching over the table to clasp Ianto's, “the pleasure's all mine.”

“Oh my _gosh_ ,” Gwil groaned, lifting his head to stare with saucer-wide blue eyes at his dads. “Could you guys _be_ any more ridiculous?”

“Hush,” Ianto admonished, not taking his eyes off Jack's face, “I'm busy being seduced.”

“And I'm tying to score with my irresistibly handsome agenda,” Jack put in. His thumb rubbed over the back of Ianto's hand where it was still trapped beneath his own.

“Okay, okay, I get it!” Gwil pushed back from the table and started off to his room. “I'll take tomorrow night off.” Without chancing a glance back over his shoulder, he shouted: “Call me when dinner's ready!”

Jack beamed at Ianto, who couldn't resist responding likewise. Being the focus of Jack Harkness' flirtation could only really be made better if said flirtation was used to embarrass your child at the same time.

Jack brought Ianto's hand up to his mouth and kissed it, not letting it go even after he brought it back down to the table. “So?” he fished, “Did I do alright?”

Ianto rolled his eyes. “Perhaps a little more subtlety could have been in order, but yes,” he conceded, “you did fine. After all, he's taking tomorrow night off, which was the goal.”

Jack's interest was obviously already elsewhere as his eyes glimmered with a plan. “Who do you think it is?” he pressed. “I think it's Aaron.”

Ianto shook his head. “No,” he asserted. “Aaron's not the take-out-on-a-date type.”

“Maybe he's not looking to go out on a date,” Jack countered, mischief in his grin. “Maybe he's just looking for a little Friday night fun.”

Ianto paled, feeling his skin grow clammy at the thought. No. There wasn't a chance. Certainly not _yet_. Not when Gwil was still so _young_.

“Ianto? Ianto?” Shaking himself, Ianto blinked the shock from his eyes to see Jack peering concernedly over at him. “Hey.” Jack patted his hand several times, squeezing it lightly in reassurance. “I was just kidding. I'm sure it'll be a while. A few more...” Jack trailed off, wincing. “Months?” When Ianto's eyes went wide and his mouth dry as a Hoix's fingernails, Jack hurried on. “At least he hasn't been having sex yet! Probably.”

Stumbling to his feet, Ianto leaned on the counter for support as he hurried out of the kitchen. “Just... a moment,” he mumbled.

He found himself at Gwil's closed door, straining to listen to anything above the sound of his own heartbeat and panicked, strangled little breaths. Inside Gwil could be heard talking to someone, certainly. Ianto held his breath and shut his eyes as he tried to make out who. And about _what_.

“Maggie?” 

Jack's presence was warm behind him as Ianto listened in at the door. Maggie. That was a fellow student, Ianto knew. Pretty Irish girl: blue eyes, auburn hair. Sweet, but not especially remarkable.  _“Like anyone's going to be, compared to Gwil_ ,” Jack had pointed out. 

“ _Every parent feels that way,”_ Ianto had replied, but couldn't help thinking at the time that maybe it was a little more true in Gwil's case than your average teenage boy. Ianto reached a hand behind him blindly. Jack responded by stroking a hand on his bicep, and stayed silent.

“Yeah. Yeah, my dads said I could get off work.” There was a pause, then Gwil was saying in a tone that was indicative of an eye-roll taking place on the other side of the door: “At the _Tourist Office_ , Maggie, I told you. … _No_ , geeze. Trust me: their job isn't half as interesting as everyone seems to think it is.”

Jack's hand on Ianto's bicep squeezed it in a silent show of pride. Ianto allowed himself a small smile. 

On the other side of the door, Gwil's voice continued. “Yeah. Yeah, we can go see that. It's been ages since I've got the chance to go to the cinema. ... Alright. ... Seven? … Yeah. … Okay. … The maths homework? Oh, no, that was easy. Hang on, I'll get it.”

Allowing himself a small sigh of relief, Ianto opened his eyes. When he turned around he was greeted by the sight of Jack smiling an odd little half smile. He nodded his head backwards, indicating their bedroom, and Ianto nodded in response. They tiptoed their way back down the hallway, shutting their door quietly behind them.

“See?” Jack said, scooping Ianto up in his arms. “Not even a mention of some secluded area they could sneak off to. Just a movie.”

Ianto nodded. Glancing at the time, and noting he had at least an hour before he needed to start dinner, he tugged Jack close to him and pressed his face in his chest. Jack's arms immediately came up behind him to stroke his hair and back. “Sorry. Teenagers. I know he's good, and smart, but he's still sixteen. You know teenagers' brains work different? Even the best and brightest still don't have the ability to make good decisions, because their brains aren't developed properly yet. What happens when he starts having sex? What if he gets some girl pregnant, or gets a disease?”

Jack scrubbed Ianto's back, squeezing him tighter before relaxing his grip – only slightly. “He won't. If there's one thing Gwil knows – besides the dangers of time paradoxes – it's safe sex.”

Ianto was still worried. Sure, Gwil may  _ know _ things like proper condom use and not to get involved unless it was with someone you really cared about – at least, for now – but Ianto remembered being Gwil's age not so long ago. He had done some stupid, reckless things, all the while  _ knowing _ what he was doing, and what he was supposed to be doing. But of course, he had it all sorted. No one could have told him otherwise.

Jack's lips had found the spot just below his ear and were pressing soft kisses there – not with intent, but as just a quiet, steady comfort. Ianto sighed and moved backwards, pulling Jack to the bed with him. 

As they lay on the bed together, Ianto pressed his hand to Jack's hip, tugging his omnipresent blue shirt up so he could feel the skin there beneath his fingers. Jack smiled loopily, carding a hand through Ianto's hair. “You know, I think there  _ is _ something we should be worried about,” Jack ventured, still smiling.

Ianto frowned. Jack was obviously getting at something he found amusing. “What?”

“He's only ever been interested in girls,” Jack pointed out. “He's limiting himself to fifty percent of the population! You think we would have raised him better.”

Ianto rolled his eyes, grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “He's probably just heterosexual. He's _allowed_ to be heterosexual, you know. Or do I have to give you the reverse-gay acceptance talk? Straight acceptance?” Ianto pondered this for a moment, then continued on drily. “Love: we have to accept our son the way he is. Even if he is...” he paused for dramatic effect, sighing heavily, “ _straight_. He's still our special little boy.”

Jack snorted, scooting closer to peck Ianto on the nose before reaching his hand down to grope at his arse. Ianto grinned at the attention and allowed himself to be manhandled into cuddling. “Maybe he just hasn't found the right man yet,” Jack offered. “After all, you considered yourself straight before me.”

Ianto snorted, even as he reached a hand out to undo Jack's trousers. “Not really. I didn't date men, but if I was being honest with myself I knew I wasn't entirely straight, either.” Just as he managed to slip a hand inside and rub against Jack's boxer short-clad penis, Ianto winked at him. “Besides: you deserve a category all your own. Jack-sexual. Neither straight, nor gay, nor man, nor woman, nor alien are able to resist your charms.”

Jack grinned: that dopey, proud, ridiculous grin of his, like a kid who just got his first A-star from a teacher he rather fancied. Ianto slid his hand into Jack's boxers then, stroking lightly at the flaccid flesh inside. Jack's hips edged forward, his penis starting to swell under Ianto's absent ministrations. 

Just as Jack was imitating Ianto's actions by beginning to undo his trousers, Ianto paused, smirking at Jack. “You know, the right woman might come along before the right man,” he teased. “What then?”

Jack smiled softly, lifting his hand from Ianto's waist to stroke at his cheek. “Then I suppose he turned out more like us than we could have hoped for.” When Ianto furrowed his brow, confused, Jack continued: “It'll mean he's grown up to be a good man, who someone fell in love with. And who he loves back, with every bit of himself.”

“Sop.” Ianto called Jack the name with absolutely no heat behind it, aware that his grin was threatening to become unattractively wide. 

Jack smiled softly, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to Ianto's lips. “Yeah, well,” he pulled away, blue eyes meeting Ianto's own, “guess I've got you and our little man to blame for that.”

Ianto returned Jack's kiss, then, and let Jack take his mind of his worries for just a little while.  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ianto thinks he's going to get some shower sex. He does not.

Ianto awoke early Saturday morning to the sound of the hall shower running and Jack's spot empty next to him. He stretched, rolled over into the spot, and snuggled into its warmth and the smell of Jack for a blissful, relaxed moment. His morning wood rubbed against the mattress as he moved, stirring slightly as the lingering smell of Jack's pheromones lovingly embraced him. Ianto hummed to himself pressing into the mattress for a moment, just to feel the friction.

After a few moments of this, Ianto's brain managed to catch up to his body and reminded him that he could be doing even _better_ things with the _actual_ Jack Harkness, if he just got up out of the bed and made it to the shower. The thought spurred him into action, and Ianto hurried out of bed and to his bathroom to relieve himself.

Nature's call attended to – and a quick swirl with the mouthwash – Ianto tossed down a robe and hurried down the hall to the shower that would normally be Gwil's. Jack, with his early hours and little sleep, sometimes took showers in there so as not to disturb Ianto in the master bath. Ianto figured this morning was much the same.

Chancing a glance toward Gwil's bedroom, Ianto saw the door firmly shut. He grinned to himself and slipped into his bathroom, shutting the door softly behind him.

Steam had already filled the room, and Ianto was forced to shuck his robe blindly. Opening the curtain, he beamed as-

“Tad!”

“Gwil?!”

“Mr. Jones!”

“What?”

“Tad!”

Ianto raced out of the bathroom, barely stopping to snatch his dressing gown off the floor. The door slammed behind him just as the front door opened, and a cheerful Jack strode in with one hand clutching a carrying case of coffee and the other a bag clearly labeled as from the pastry shop just down the street.

“Hey, Ianto! I thought-”

But Ianto had much more important things to deal with than a cheery husband this morning. “Gwil!” He pounded on the bathroom door, clutching his dressing gown to himself with one hand. “Gwil! You get out of there right now! I won't-”

“Okay, okay!” Gwil's shouts could be heard clearly once the shower turned off. Ianto could hear Jack coming up behind him, could sense his confusion. But Ianto was much too busy dealing with his... Ianto screamed silently. What, his slut of a son?

“You get out of there _now_!” Ianto pounded on the door some more. He wasn't overreacting. He wasn't. Any parent would act this way if they found their sixteen-year-old son in the shower with some... some... hussy!

“Ianto! Ianto, what happened?” Jack was touching Ianto now, hand on his shoulder. 

He had to calm down. Ianto knew this. He was definitely on the verge of hyperventilating. Or crying. Or maybe grounding Gwil for the rest of his  _life_ . But he and Jack had discussed this. It was only a matter of time. Ianto himself hadn't been any older when... Ianto felt sick. All the stupid,  _idiotic_ things he got up to when he was Gwil's age... 

“Ianto, you're scaring me. Deep breaths.” Jack had somehow managed to spin Ianto around, and was looking in his eyes, both hands on his shoulders. “Hey, hey. Look at me. What's wrong?”

“Gwil.” Jack's eyes widened in panic and he moved to the door, but Ianto grabbed him. “No, no. A... a girl. In the shower.”

Slowly comprehension dawned on Jack's face, and with that, a smile. Ianto stared down Jack until the smile slowly withered under his gaze – but didn't completely vanish. “Oh. Well. You know.”

“No, Jack! I don't-” Ianto cut himself off. No, he did “know”. He just didn't _want_ to.

“Tad? Are you still out there?”

Before Jack could speak Ianto turned back to the door, blood boiling. “Yes, and this is where  _you_ need to be in exactly three seconds before-”

“We're not going to do anything _now_!” Gwil shouted through the closed door. “Not with you out there! I just... Katie needs to get to my room. And get dressed. Please.”

“Who is Katie?” Ianto yelled. “I thought it was Maggie!”

There was an awkward silence on the other side of the door, and some hurried whispers. Ianto chanced a glance over at Jack. Much too amused for his own good. Ianto had half a mind to punish Jack as well, just for not taking this as seriously as he was. 

After a moment Gwil spoke again. “I broke up with Maggie months ago, Tad. I've been with Katie for a while, now.”

“Okay.” Jack cut in, pressing a gentle hand to Ianto's shoulder. “Gwil, you get out here and head to the kitchen. We'll let Katie have some privacy as she gets dressed.”

A pause, some shuffling on the other side of the door – was that a kiss Ianto could hear through the wood? – and then the door was opening and Gwil was stepping out. Ianto caught a flash of damp brown hair and pale skin before Gwil shut the door behind him.

“Kitchen,” Jack ordered. Gwil wrapped his towel tighter around himself and hurried off, head hung low.

Ianto started to follow after him, but then Jack's hand was on his arm and he was being manhandled into their bedroom. A flash of towel were the last things he saw of the hallway before Jack shut the door behind him.

“What are you doing?” Ianto growled. He wouldn't take any of Jack's “changing morality” speeches. Not today, when his idiot son was shagging some bird in _Ianto's_ shower. In _Ianto's_ house!

“I know,” Jack said to start. “I know how you feel, what you want to say. And that's fine.”

Ianto blinked. Jack grinned a little crookedly.

“Well, you know how _I_ feel on the matter,” he continued. Ianto frowned. Yes, he did. Which was why he needed to get out there and give Gwil the tongue-lashing of a _lifetime_ before Jack ruined it with all his free-love talk. Not that there wasn't something to it, but no son of Ianto's was going to get a girl pregnant or catch some sort of disease before he even finished his GSCE's.

Jack lay a hand on Ianto's shoulder. “But I know how you feel. Okay? I don't get it, but I know what you want to say. And I'll back you up. Within reason,” he amended. “I just need you to take a second and not... explode.”

So Ianto did. He took a second, leaning into Jack, taking deep breaths. Jack's hand came up automatically to stroke at his hair – going grayer by the minute, and this incident was sure to accelerate the process – as Ianto calmed his heart rate and his seething mind.

“Okay,” he finally murmured.

Jack leaned back, but didn't step away. “Come here,” he murmured, and tugged Ianto into a quick kiss. Ianto sighed into the embrace. Okay. He could do this. Every parent had to, after all. He just needed to be rational about it. 

They stepped out of their bedroom together, Ianto noting that Gwil's bedroom door was still firmly shut. When they rounded the hallway into the kitchen, the sight that greeted them almost made Ianto laugh. Gwil was seated at the kitchen table, dripping wet, with only a towel tugged around his waist. Big fat drops of moisture were spattered all over the table from where his dark brown curls were dripping everywhere. In that moment, Ianto realized he  _could_ handle this well.

Without saying a word Ianto strode over to the stove and grabbed a hand towel from it, then tossed it to Gwil. Immediately Gwil got the message, wiping down the kitchen table and squeezing out his hair. Ianto decided not to sit down, and instead stood next to Jack on the opposite side of the table from Gwil.

“Did you use a condom?” was the first question out of Ianto's mouth.

Gwil nodded immediately. “Every time, I swear.” Then he winced. Ianto couldn't promise he didn't, too.

“Which leads to my next question: how long has this been going on?”

Gwil fiddled with his fingernails. “Uh... Well, I did with Maggie. But then we broke up because she didn't want to use a condom. Said she was on the Pill, but...” 

Ianto blinked. Okay. Okay. That was... that was surprisingly brilliant of Gwil. He supposed he should be proud. Maybe. But no need to rush ahead of himself.

Gwil kept going. “And then just Katie. Um. So.”

“Right.” Ianto ran a hand through his hair, then set it on his hip. His elbow brushed Jack's side, which he was glad for. He needed just a little physical reassurance from Jack right now. “Do Katie's parents know?”

Gwil's eyes went wide, and he shook his head rapidly. “No. But, but if... don't...” Gwil cut himself off, obviously at a loss for what to say. It was apparent he wanted to ask Jack and Ianto not to tell Katie's parents, but at the same time knew he didn't have that right.

For a long second Ianto stayed silent, considering. He couldn't ban Gwil from sex. Or, rather he could, it just seemed foolish after how responsible Gwil had proven himself to be. And he really did seem to be handling all this so well. “Right.” Ianto nodded, coming to a decision. “You get one date a week.” Next to him, Jack shifted slightly. Ianto knew it was in surprise. “I don't want this interfering with you studying for your GSCE's,” he explained. Gwil nodded in vigorous agreement. “If you want more time off from Torchwood-”

“No!” Gwil cut in, expression earnest. “No, no way. And the one date's fine, that's all we usually manage anyway. We see each other in school and all, too.”

Ianto nodded. He was rather pleased with himself. Responsible, non-neurotic parent, and all. Who would have guessed it? Of course, that feeling of self-pride still didn't exactly put to bed the pit of snakes writhing in his stomach. He had just  _sanctioned_ his little boy to have sex once a week. He blamed Jack for all this mess. 

“Um,” Gwil hesitated, glancing over his dads' shoulders toward his bedroom. Ianto winced. 

Luckily Jack cut in at that moment. “Why don't you send her home for now, champ?” His touch on Ianto's arm was warm and reassuring. “Give your poor tad some time to adjust to the idea.”

Gwil's nod was immediate before he jumped up from the kitchen table and was off like a shot.

“Okay?” Jack asked as soon as Gwil's door slammed shut.

“I...” Too many emotions swirled within Ianto. He and Jack had – by some miracle – raised their son to be a smart, good boy. Well: young man now, Ianto supposed. And wasn't _that_ terrifying. They now had a young man living in their house, with girlfriends and... a _sex_ life...

“I need to lay down,” Ianto finally concluded. 

“Okay.” Jack's lips were firm when he pressed a kiss to Ianto's head. “Get yourself off to bed. I'll see if I can't whip up some breakfast for you. Or get Gwil to do it...” he mumbled the last part. With that, Ianto stumbled off to their bedroom. His son now had a sex life. It was too bizarre. 

Then a hideous thought struck Ianto. What was going to happen in just a couple of years, before Gwil headed off to university? If Gwil managed to inherit either of his dads' libidos, their house would be some sort of non-stop orgy.  _Great_ . And wouldn't Owen just have himself a right laugh as soon as he found out about all this?   
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwil wants a quiet 17th birthday. With his girlfriend. No dads allowed.

Jack tossed his keys on the table by the door, slinging the bag off his shoulder as he glanced around. There wasn't any sign of Ianto or Gwil, which was odd. Jack glanced at his watch, then winced. Looks like he got home a little later than he meant to. Then Gwil was probably already on his birthday date, then. With... Katie? Jack nodded. Yeah, it was still Katie. Probably.

But Ianto should be around: after all, this was Gwil's big night _out_ and their big night _in_. No kid, no Torchwood. Just Jack, Ianto, and the house all to themselves. Jack grinned as anticipatory arousal curled slowly in his stomach. He had _plans_ for Ianto tonight. They'd take it slow; Jack would spoil him _rotten_. Silk bindings and blindfolds, candles and some scented oils. Massage, then _so_ much foreplay. Jack would be crowned the _king_ of foreplay after tonight. And then he'd fuck Ianto nice and slow, once he was already pushed past the edge of mindless, pleasure-filled oblivion. It was going to be _perfect_.

“Ianto!” Jack called, looking around. Most of the lights were off, but Jack could see a flickering light coming from their bedroom. Candles, maybe? More likely the telly: the glow was too bright and blue to be candles. Well, it didn't matter. So long as Ianto was relaxing and getting ready to be treated to the best fucking of his _life_ , Jack was happy.

“Here.”

Huh. Jack tossed his bag on the couch and shrugged his coat off as he made his way to their bedroom. Ianto had sounded... odd. Sleepy, almost. That wasn't exactly part of the plan. If Ianto really _needed_ some sleep, Jack would be fine with that, sure. But he hadn't thought Ianto had been working too hard lately, and they got so few opportunities like tonight.

“Hey,” Jack cooed as he pushed up their bedroom door. “Are you ready for what I've got-”

He stopped. Ianto was sprawled out on top of their bed already, but not exactly in the way Jack had been imagining. For one, Ianto was almost fully clothed: his tie was loosened and top button undone, shoes toed off the edge of the bed, but for the most part he was dressed. And for another, there was a bottle of Jameson in Ianto's hand. A quarter empty. Jack stared at the bottle, trying to remember if they had even _opened_ it before. He was pretty sure they hadn't.

“Okay.” Jack took a cautious step toward their bed, then another. He wasn't sure what was going on or how he needed to handle this, but it was definitely a situation that called for a handling of _some_ sort. “Okay. So. Want to tell me what's up?”

Lazily Ianto lifted the bottle of Jameson up and pointed the neck at their telly. The amber liquid sloshed dangerously close to the mouth before settling again. “'s Gwil. Just... watchin'. 's'date. On the birf-day.”

Keeping one eye on Ianto, Jack turned and glanced at the telly. Pulled up on it were the CCTV cams of a nice restaurant in the city. Gwil and Katie were clearly visible on the cams, laughing and talking and hands loosely clasped over each other on the table. Jack smiled at the scene, then turned back to Ianto. “Okay, Gwil's on his birthday date. Everything looks fine. That doesn't explain the whiskey.”

Ianto blinked down at the bottle, slow and out of sync, before seeming to remember exactly why he was drinking as his face hardened. He took another swig, and, yeah, no. Jack hurried forward and extracted the bottle as gently as he could from Ianto's grip. Much more of that, and he'd been dealing with a _vomiting_ husband, rather than just a drunk, impotent one. If Ianto hadn't drank enough to get to that point already.

“'s'so hap. Hap-py.” Ianto slurred. He sounded like he was choking on every word he forced out. Jack sighed and took the Jameson to the bathroom, where he tucked it on a top shelf, behind a stack of toilet paper. Then he filled a glass with water from the bathroom sink and brought it to Ianto, along with two paracetamols.

“Come on,” Jack cajoled Ianto. “Sit up. Here you go. Drink.”

Ianto made a face, but did as Jack told him to. “He's jus'... big. Adult. S'v'n _teen_.” Ianto continued to try and explain. “'s'got this _girl_. And. Birf-day. Wif t'girl. Not... us.”

Jack nodded his understanding, and as a matter of fact he actually was starting to understand. Ianto was upset Gwil was growing up so fast. In Ianto's mind, obviously this process started with being a junior field agent at Torchwood, continued with having sex with his girlfriends, and now was ever-accelerating with choosing to spend his birthdays with a girlfriend rather than his two old dads. Soon enough he'd be off to university, being a full field agent, getting married... doing all the grown-up things. Ianto was losing his little boy. Jack could understand that.

Still. Jack sighed, staring mournfully at the CCTV where Gwil's girl was laughing brightly at something he said. It wasn't exactly the evening he had planned. He looked down at Ianto and... whoa, where had he got a _photo album_ from?

Ianto's entire body was curled around the album, fingers awkwardly stroking the pictures neatly set and labeled inside. “'s'so _little_ ,” Ianto proclaimed, looking at a picture of Gwil when he was seven. “'nd now...”

“Okay.” Jack carded a hand through Ianto's hair, letting it continue its path to Ianto's neck and back. “Why don't you come here? Come on.” Jack moved, positioning them so he was sitting up against the pillows and Ianto was curled up in his lap, photo album lying on the bed in front of them. “Tell me about them,” Jack urged. He hadn't even known Ianto was keeping a photo album. He knew there were photos, sure, and he supposed if he thought about it he would have realized Ianto was keeping them organized in some sort of fashion. But to see an actual photo album, neatly chronicling all Gwil's little exploits, was making even Jack choke up a bit.

He pointed at a photo of Gwil laughing in the park. “When's that from?” he asked. The caption below already told him everything he needed to know – _Gwil, 8, footie practice –_ but Jack was trying to get Ianto to open up some. Obviously this insecurity had been building for a while now. Ianto didn't just decide spur-of-the-moment to down a quarter bottle of Jameson.

“'s footie,” Ianto explained. His fingers stuttered drunkenly over the photo. “'s after Owen. Gay boy. Look.” Indeed, the next photo had little Owen in it, smiling shyly at the camera with Gwil's arm thrown over his shoulder. “Couldn't... 's _little_. 'nd he was _kissing_. Too fast.”

“I know,” Jack hummed, pressing a kiss to Ianto's forehead. “I know. They grow up pretty fast. But hey.” Jack squeezed his arms tight around Ianto, holding him tight to his chest. “Even though he's growing up, that doesn't mean he's not our son anymore, right? He's going to get married and have a career, and you'll get to be there for all that. And he'll have some kids of his own, and then you and I get to be grandads. We'll watch those kids grow up, teach them everything we taught Gwil and then some. They'll grow up, and maybe you'll even be lucky enough to see some great-grandkids come along. There's still decades and decades of new experiences and _life_ ahead of you and Gwil, and you're going to be there to enjoy all of it.”

Jack paused, waiting for Ianto to reply. When all Jack heard was heavy breathing, he shifted just enough to glance down. Ianto had passed out in his arms, mouth hanging slack in his drunken stupor. Jack smiled, the sighed. Damn. His and Ianto's perfect night, shot. Oh, well. Ianto just really needed to get this out of his system.

As Jack moved to undress Ianto and get him comfortable under the covers, he grimaced inwardly. He knew this empty-nest syndrome wasn't entirely out of Ianto's system, but he'd be alright. They both would be. But for now... with Ianto comfortable under the duvet, Jack pressed a kiss to his forehead and straightened. For now, Jack would just go and watch some porn, jerk off, and then be there for Ianto tomorrow morning with a proper English fry-up and enough orange juice to kill that hangover he was sure to have.


End file.
